A Road to Redemption
by CheerUpYouEmos1243
Summary: "Our loyalty to each other is what has kept us together all these years," Koschei said rather suddenly, head tilting away from the stars to look over at Theta - his Theta. - Eventual Master/Doctor and the Master's gone and done it again; buggered up.
1. Chapter 0: We All Start Somewhere

******So, first fanfiction to be uploaded here for Doctor Who. Ooo, yay, when will you be completing the other ones you already have uploaded? Answer: never. At least I'm being honest with you. So...yep. This one will, however, be completed. I have the first sixish chapters planned out so yes, it will be semi long. So, yep. Not so sure how it will end though so bear with me, my darlings.**

**THEMES: Friendship, Angst, Romance, all that kind of stuff ooo, goody.**

**DISCLAIMER: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC, so obviously I don't own it. This whole thing would be an episode if I did. Also, the speaking parts of the first three paragraphs are from 'Divided Loyalties' by Gary Russell because it was a nice line. This whole 'chapter' is more of an intro so...it's relatively short. ENJOY.**

**Chapter 0**

They lay next to one another, fingers entwined, heads and glances cast upwards towards the stars and the setting suns of Gallifrey. They were young, so, so young, and yet they were so wise, both soon to be hitting their ninetieth birthdays at some point that month. And yet neither cared, neither one paid attention to age. Instead the two Time Lords chose their attention to be directed solely at the other, caring for them, caring for the other's health more than their own, one another loving them and being there for them, no matter what happened to them; they'd always be together.

"Our loyalty to each other is what has kept us together all these years," Koschei said rather suddenly, head tilting away from the stars to look over at Theta - his Theta. His eyes rather lazily scanned over the other's face, copying it once again to memory, adjusting every detail he'd gotten wrong the last time he'd committed the sight to his mind, "Nothing can divide that," he murmured, voice almost lost in the passing wind.

"No," Theta agreed, turning also so that his gaze met Koschei's, giving his best friend a half-smile, the next word trailing off as he spoke it, the young Time Lord not even realising he'd spaced out, "Nothing..."

And as Koschei leant over and kissed his forehead, a gesture so sweet, so tender and so gentle, he was lost within the other; they'd be together, forever – they'd travel all of time and space together, look upon the miracles as stars were made, as galaxies formed, as a supernova erupted into a firework of nuclear energy and light – they would do so much and Theta was adamant that they would. And they would do it together, neither leaving the other's side.

And yet...

"Look at me now," the Master spoke, pulling himself out of the memory as he trekked up the side of a hill, paying no attention to the patches of burnt and burning red grass around him, pushing himself on to reach the top if the dirt mound, "Alone and forgotten about, a lost soul cast into the Time Lock."

The sigh that left his lips as he reached the top of the hill was strained, as though his throat was acting up as he made the noise, hoarse and grating as it left his lips. He spread his arms wide, looking down upon the burning city of Gallifrey, the cracks in the glass dome surrounding the high and once majestic home of the Lords of Time laughable in the irony of the situation. Thus, he allowed a loose chuckle leave his lips, on the verge of losing the plot as he knew it, already having accepted his fate the moment he realised the Doctor wasn't coming back. Oh, it was just like the Axon's in the other Time Lord's third regeneration – oh why don't you come travel with me, oh wait no, I'll just put you in a time loop and we won't be able to do that, what a shame, I was looking forward to that.

"Prick," the Master spat, arms dropping to his side as he fell back onto the hill, throwing the bag he had perched upon his back off, the tatty fabric binding landing on the grass of the hill with a soft '_clink_' as the contents of it rattled inside.

He dropped down besides it, pulling the zip back and emptying all that he had collected on his time inside the Time Lock, during his travels around the dilapidated city infested with Daleks and screeching Time Lords, fighting for their lives. Of course, he was on neither the side of the Time Lords (especially after what he'd found out Rassilon had done to him) nor the side of the Daleks (for obvious reasons), thus he stole the lives of Time Lords, building up his own life, healing himself as he practically swam in the excess regenerations, extra power to supply to life energy he had to stream from his fingertips in order to kill the odd pesky Dalek whenever it dared to show its face...or plunger, for lack of a better word.

He didn't doubt for a second that, to anyone other than himself – and even then he had to admit that _even _for himself it was becoming apparent – that he maybe sounded a bit cynical in his own internal monologue – irrational and rational thoughts bouncing, jumping, crashing about in his mind. Another sigh left his lips before he ran his tongue over them, scattering the pieces from the bag out on the ground, pulling a makeshift laser screwdriver that he'd fashioned long ago from his pocket and set to work. He welded, soldered and hammered parts into place, taking care as he wired it, making sure every link was correct as he inserted the binary, the dimensional circuits, the fabric links – he made sure every part was in precisely the right place. It must have been hours since he'd started because once he'd finished the suns were way past setting, the cold, dark night air of Gallifrey making itself obvious to him only when he stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans as he surveyed his work, rather proud with the outcome that he'd achieved.

"A Quantum Rifle," he hummed, speaking to no one other than himself as he picked it up, the weight of the device fitting comfortably in his hands as he held it. As he held it, he also aimed it, taking a breath as his forefinger slid over the trigger of the gun, a grin that he hadn't felt cross his face spreading itself over his features as he pressured the trigger slightly, spreading his legs and distributing his own weight evenly between the two limbs. This device had enough power to either rip apart the Time Lock or destroy a small part of the Time Vortex.

Either way he refused to go out without a bang.

His finger pressed down on the trigger, a bolt of pure white shooting out and exploding in front of him, a torrent of air gushing over his body as a crack appeared in midair. The grin grew wider as he dropped the Quantum Rifle on the ground, taking a few steps backwards before he ran forwards, literally diving head first into the crack, preferring to take his chances rather than letting himself rot in a burnt and collapsing civilisation.


	2. Chapter 1: Evolution of the Silence

**Yes, yes! New chapter. Up rather quickly but it won't usually be like this. I'll try to update at least once a week. This chapter isn't slashy at all, just descriptive, promise it's coming up though. I'm starting to like my own ideas; always an upside when you're writing a story on it ahaaa.**

**DISCLAIMER: Owned by the BBC, obviously not mine, though the story idea is. Unless Moffat is in my head, which he may well be. Moffat is everywhere.**

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><p><strong>-= Chapter 1 =-<strong>

Thoughts swirled within his mind, not pounding, just floating through a sea of blinding white. Oh, and the drums...it was as though they were beating in slow motion, his body feeling weightless as it fell through time and space in its purest form – raw time energy surrounding his entire being; his physical form, his mind, his very soul itself. It eloped him until he felt the entire sensation stop suddenly. And then he felt nothing, his eyes drooping to a close slowly before he fell.

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><p>When he awoke the first thing he did was groan, pain making itself obvious to him as it tingled throughout his body and coursed through his veins. And then he heard it. Silence. Silence within his head.<p>

"No..." he whispered, opening his eyes suddenly in the dark room, "No, they can't be gone. They can't just stop because of some stupid fall through time."

He spoke the words through gritted teeth before he brought his hand up, smacking it against the side of his head, waiting before repeating the action a further three times. There was an electric feeling inside his head before the drums started up again, pounding louder than ever, and he gave himself a smug grin having achieved the feat he set out to strive for. With that done, the Master pushed himself up, standing and letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of wherever he was currently situated, which appeared to be close to that of a cave. Moving with his hands outstretched before him, he stepped forward until he found a wall and leant forwards to lick it.

"Hmm," he hummed to himself, running his tongue across the rough rock once again, "Not Earth then, but breathable air," he took a deep breath in, letting the chemicals run across his sinuses, identifying them, "Higher percentage of oxygen at around...thirty percent, lower amount of carbon, less nitrogen..." he spoke out to himself, a habit he'd gotten used to doing since falling into the Time Lock; it could get rather boring if you didn't have someone intelligent to upkeep a conversation with and, as was obvious, nobody on the burning planet of Gallifrey could quite meet up to his expectations.

Running his hands down the wall for a final time, he pushed himself away from it, fingers still trailing across the surface as he tried to make his way to what may have been an entrance to the cave-like destination. He hummed to himself as he found what felt like a door, pushing on the cold exterior surface until it slid open, requiring some effort to complete the usually mundane task. He was met with a flood of light, almost blinding him though in any other situation it was possible that the other room he was in was merely dimly lit, the sudden revelation of light being what made it seem so bright to him. As he strode into the room he noticed something.

He was surrounded.

Lining the walls of the cave like room were creatures, much taller than he was, their faces white and mostly blank asides from contours, corners and cracks in the skin and sad, sad human like eyes. He was cocky though, the Master. So, when one of the creatures approached him, he merely spread his arms out as a smug and rather powerful grin perched itself upon his lips, curving his lips upwards at the sides before they parted, words spilling forth, "What to say, what to say...oh! Take me to your leader. Always was one for the classics."

The creatures looked as confused as something with a featureless face could look before they got to their knees and bowed before the Master, the one who had approached him speaking now, "You have come here in our time of need," the words were clear and yet somehow distorted in their own strange way, "You are our God, our Lord..."

"Your Master," he spoke now, chin raised, the same thrill he had felt when he'd produced and saved the Toclafane running throughout his veins, "I am your Master and you...you are my Silence," he spoke the words with highness, a sort of power that was strange to him making its way into his voice, mighty and strong.

And so the Master set to work, building a new device. However, this one was more for travelling on a large scale and bigger on the inside compared to how it was on the outside. Granted, he was finding making something dimensionally transcendental rather hard when it was makeshift and he didn't have the materials he usually would have on hand, but it was close enough. He built a TARDIS, shabby and needing to consume life energy in order to actually fly but that was okay; if he had anything that was excess in his system it was life energy, stolen from thousands of Time Lords – he doubted kick starting this TARDIS would take any more than a few regenerations worth of energy from his system. He around the hundred Silents that were left of the decaying and dying species gathered into the makeshift TARDIS before he outreached a hand, tapping in co-ordinates to Earth, any time period.

A thought ran through his mind and he vaguely wondered if this would be the second crash landing he'd experience today before he pushed it away, hand slamming down on a blackish orb situated in the centre of the stand protruding from the floor. In an instant, he felt the bouts of energy drain from him as they were sucked into the TARDIS, powering the entire device and sending it cascading into the Time Vortex, toppling and turning.

The Master pulled his hand back, albeit not without some amount of force, tumbling backwards with the movement of the ship only to be caught and supported by a Silent, the being holding him upright, assuring that he wouldn't be injured.

"Hit the decks!" he shouted, pulling himself and the Silent holding him to the floor, arms flailing somewhat so that they were over his head and wrapped around a railing at the same time, keeping him steady and in place.

He could feel the whirl of the TARDIS as it tipped, span and toppled through the wall of the Time Vortex, towards Earth; he had no idea what time period they'd land in but it was okay – any time would be fine, so long as it was Earth, that was the important thing. The crash that was heard when they landed was deafening, it was a good thing they were all knocked unconscious by the impact from that point of view. What was bad about them being knocked out was the fact that they were...well, knocked out really.

It was several hours later that the Master awoke, being shaken awake by the Silent who had supported him beforehand – he considered this one his favourite now. Cracking an eye open, he groaned, reaching up a hand to rub the side of his head where it had rebounded off the floor, despite his arms having covered it. With the help of the Silent, he stood and looked around and took in the sight; they'd crashed, that much was obvious, he'd kept the shields up though so only minor damage had been dealt to the interior of the TARDIS, a few wires now becoming loose and hanging from the tops of the ceiling, dangling down. On a whole, it had been rather successful – he danced around to the scanner he'd placed on the other side of the room, ignoring the crack that now ran across the length of the screen.

"Earth!" he called out to the room triumphantly, turning to grin at the now standing Silents, all of them having lived by some twisted turn of fate. He raised his hand, smacking the monitor of the scanner a few times as the picture jumbled, squinting as he tried to see the date, "Some time during nineteen sixty three, oh well."

Spinning, he grinned at the Silence who stayed completely expressionless, "And it seems that we're around twenty feet underground in some place in America, my guess is DC."

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><p>After a few hours they managed to kind of dig a way out of the tunnel, and by they I mean they Silence, the Master opting they sit back and mess with the wiring of the makeshift TARDIS, ripping out parts the broken parts. When his favourite Silent approached him (he was considering giving it a name at some point; maybe Steve) and told him that they'd gotten through to the surface, he merely grinned. He turned away from what he was working on, going up to the surface and surveying their surroundings; ah, they'd crashed through a warehouse, though the warehouse was still standing. Quirking an eyebrow at the situation he tapped his fingers against his chin, trying to find a solution.<p>

"Must have dematerialised as we crashed, probably rematerialised under the warehouse or something," the Master hummed, once against telling himself more than any one, jumping around to grin at the Silence, "Now! What should we do? I'm thinking maybe cause some havoc? Rule the world? All the fun things, really."

The Silence looked absolutely clueless as they stared at him, though he figured their lack of expression was down to their lack of facial features. Letting a sigh pass from his lips he reconsidered how he worded things; maybe simple commands would work better with these creatures.

"You lot stay here, I'm going to go out and do a few things," he offered a half smile, still rather smug, "Try to clear up the broken parts inside and wait for me to come back."

With that, he turned on heel, strolling around the warehouse he was now situated in as the Silence disappeared down the hole – he'd have to commission someone to build something over that, so it wasn't so obvious. He hummed as he strode along, thanking his luck as he reached an office department and seeing that no-one was there.

"Abandoned," the words left him before he could know it, lips turning upwards in a grin.

The little stroll he took around the building lasted no more than half an hour until he found a suit abandoned in what seemed to be a sort of old changing room. He picked it up and smiled – just like his old Saxon suit. Oh, that was a brilliant suit. He tugged off his own clothes changing into it, taking the opportunity to kick open each of the lockers inside the changing room in turn. When he found several shaving supplies he took the opportunity to do so, having grown quite a bit of scruff since his time in the Time Lock.

He stepped from the room, twirling his laser screwdriver between his fingers (he was honestly surprised the device had actually survived the crash) and hummed as he walked. Finding the entrance to the building he strolled from it, walking around the city and exploring what he assumed would be the equivalent of a base for him for the next few years. He had a plan, a large scale plan that he had no doubt would take a while (and a lot of money) to fulfil, but it was a plan no less. Stepping into a suit shop, he strolled up to the check out lady and shot her a charming smile.

"Reckon you can make around about oohhh...say a hundred of these," he gestured to his own clothing, "Suits by next week?"

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><p>Months later his plan was well on its way; he'd dressed the Silence in suits much like his own, a little different but essentially the same. He'd streamed excess life energy into each of them, giving them their own powers, the ability to shoot the energy right from their fingertips much like he was able to. He'd conducted experiments on them, accidentally making them forgotten once someone turned away; though he quickly fashioned an eye patch to protect himself from the problem.<p>

Though, today, he was going to hire someone. It was a thing that he wasn't used to doing but it needed to be done; he couldn't let the Doctor see him or else he wouldn't be able to get nearly as far with his plan as he wished to get. And thus, he was strolling along the streets of nineteen sixty four Washington D.C and looking for potential people. He quickly found someone who looked like they were promising.

"You," he said, crossing the road and pointing at the rather shocked looking lady.

"Me?" she questioned. She was young, not too young, but not quite middle aged yet.

"Yes, you," the Master smirked, "Quick. Think up an alias; when you're working for me, we won't know each other on a name to name basis, it's only fair if I don't know your name too."

Honestly she was quite surprised at the man's cockiness, but it was just something that pushed he further to agreeing with him, "When I'm working for you?" she raised an eyebrow in question, tapping her foot against the floor, "And what makes you so sure I'll be doing that any time soon?"

Oh yes, yes, he'd chosen the right person; she was brilliant so far. He grinned, digging into his pocket and taking what seemed like two metal eye patches out, "Because it'll be dangerous," he put one of them on, twirling the other between his fingers, "And everyone like a bit of danger, no?"

And with that she grinned, "Kovarian, call me Kovarian, and what should I call you?"

Shooting the grin back, the Master passed her the eye patch, "Put it on, and call me the Master. We'll walk and talk now; I hope you don't have many connections here because let's just say you'll be working a lot of over time."

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><p>Kovarian, in the Master's mind, was a typical ape with a twist; she was stupid in some aspects but she learnt what she taught him, actually taking in and remembering what he said (which was more than could be said for a fair few of the Doctor's companions who couldn't follow a simple command such as 'don't wander off'). Soon enough, with her help and the way she could persuade people, he had a station being built in space by some aliens from another far of planet. Sure, he'd still have to pay, but the fact is that it was getting done.<p>

"The Silence told me that they'd picked up the Doctor's signal from within your relative time lines," she said one day, approaching the Master's desk with a wide grin spread across her face.

The Master sat forward in his seat, sliding his feet off of the table as he leant against it, eager to hear more about the situation, "Oh do fill me in on the details my dear."

Taking a few steps over, she perched herself on the corner of his desk, passing him a few of the papers she was holding in her hands, "He's on Earth, a place called Ledworth in two thousand and ten. The Silence are working on finding the precise date in which they're there and should be done in about five minutes," she hummed, still grinning, "And guess what."

"What?" he questioned, growing a little impatient at the hold up.

"He's got companions," Kovarian grinned wider as the Master's eyes seem to light up, "What do I say though?" she asked, carrying on when the Master looked at her in confusion, "When I meet them? Evil cults always have something that they say over and over."

The Master leant back into his chair again, crossing one leg over the other and quirking an eyebrow, "Well..." the thoughtful that had appeared was swept from his features by a sly smirk, "I never could resist a ticking clock. Tick tock, tick tock."

Kovarian merely continued to grin.

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><p>And thus came the story we all know. A mother was taken from her raggedy Doctor, a child was taken from that mother and a good man went to war. Children cried and influences were made to all of history. He killed and he healed where it was necessary. Kovarian died in alternate time stream but when they both talked to each other again in the real world she said nothing of it. She lived. He lived. And so did the Doctor.<p>

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><p>"Master! There's a breach!" Kovarian shouted as she flung open the door, only to find the Master grinning.<p>

"He's here isn't he?" he grinned wider at the nod that Kovarian gave him, rubbing his hands together, eyes filled positively with glee, "Well then, it would just be rude not to greet him properly, am I right?"

The woman nodded, glancing down at the small screened watch on her wrist, reading aloud from it information, "He's on the left wing, third floor right at the end; situated near a large glass window. Him and his," she swallowed as if feeling the tension of saying the next word, "Him and his wife are fighting off the Silence, they're not making too much of a dint in our forces though. His companions are cowering near the TARDIS, not doing much."

The Master merely nodded before pulling a Vortex Manipulator from his desk drawer, slipping it onto his wrist and tapping in the co-ordinates of the location swiftly. Kovarian gave him a quick salute and he returned it with a wink, pressing down the button on the device and vanishing in a flash of blue with a hint of time travel.

He rematerialised outside of the room, in front of the large metal door leading into it. Straightening his suit he reached out a hand, knocking lightly on the door four times. When the noise from behind the door continued, he repeated the gesture, hand rasping against the door harder and harder until there was just silence. A grin crossed his face once again before he pushed open the door, the metal creaking at the movement.

The sight he was met with was that in which Kovarian had described; the Doctor was stood stock still, River by his side with her arm outstretched, gun in front of her and aimed at a now stilled Silent.

"Hello Doctor!" he waved at the other Time Lord, the Silence parting to either side of the vast and spacious room as he stepped forwards towards the other, grin still perched upon his face, "Oh it's been far too long, hasn't it?"

Instead of receiving a reply, the Doctor was quiet, not saying a word. The Master shot him a mock pout, fingers tapping to the beat of four against his leg as he stopped but a few feet in front of the other, head tilting to the side.

"Hmm, giving me the silent treatment?" a grin broke out across his face.

The Doctor seemed to straighten up, eyes still locked with the Masters in a rather intense gaze before confusion and hurt etched their way onto his old, almost ancient, features as his lips made to move. The Master waited in giddy anticipation to what the other would say, bouncing up and down rather excitedly on the balls of his feet, waiting for the Doctor to speak.

"Why?" was the only word that left his once good friend's lips.

He stopped still, freezing as he simply stared at the other, all coherent thoughts leaving his mind.


	3. Chapter 2: Of Companions and Breakdowns

******A little shorter than the last chapter but not by much so pffft, oh well! The bulk of it is really just description and stuff, something I know I really need to cut down on, despite how fun it is to write, aha~ So! Enjoy and such, nothing too bad in this chapter, still enough to keep it K+ rated dodedodo.**

**DISCLAIMER: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC, not me, or else a lot of things would be different - such as the Master would be in every single episode pffft.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

His mind was in a flurry of memories, as his mind pondered and ran of its own accord, not allowing him to catch up to it or to let him get it back onto the right track. It flicked through his memories in no apparent order, focusing on the ones it was apparently attempting to find, lingering there until the moment was over before deciding to moving on to its next destination along memory lane.

_He lay within the Doctor's arms, his hearts pounding, his back pressed against the floor as the handcuffs dug into the skin of his wrists. He was dying. There was a crimson puddle flowing from the bullet wound in the Master's stomach but he didn't mind; this was payback, this was revenge for all the times he'd been put in a similar position to this. He was going to leave the Doctor alone with himself for the rest of time so that the other Time Lord could wander as a lost and forgotten soul like he had done so many times before._

"_Axons? Remember the Axons?" _

_The Master did remember the Axons; yet another time the Doctor has left him – he'd been put into a time loop never to be seen again. He was sure the other was referencing to what he had said to him before the bad part had happened but the whole thing just spurred him on to stop himself from regenerating. The Doctor was on the verge of sobbing now, saying things to him, trying to get him to regenerate and oh, oh it was so tempting but he couldn't. He pushed the burning feeling down and forced himself not to as the other rambled on; he'd made his decision and he was going to stick by it. _

_The Doctor needed to learn._

His mind flew from the memory to the next, apparently picking out the ones where he and the Doctor were talking to one another, which he didn't appreciate in the slightest way. His mind flitted from his 'Harold Saxon era' on to his 'Resurrection era' and perched itself upon yet another memory, forcing him to relive another event.

"_I wonder what I'd be without the drums."_

_Tears were welling up in his eyes, the Doctor bound to a chair before him. There were so many things he could be doing to the other Time Lord right now but no, instead they were like this, their words being blended into some sort of angst soup served up to the King of angst who was the overseer of all of the United Kingdom of Angst. Their eyes were locked and the Master found he couldn't look away from the Doctor, no matter how hard he did or didn't try for it was as though his eyes had been tied down to the other, unable to move their gaze away._

"_I wonder what I'd be without you."_

_The tears almost fell as the words were spoken, gaze finally able to break away, glancing towards the floor before going back up to the Doctor's face. He thought for a brief moment about how weak he must have looked to the other, how pathetic he must be, but all he saw in those eyes was honesty and love, the constant want to help, to heal – probably why he was called the Doctor. He swallowed as he found his throat suddenly dry._

"_Yeah."_

This carried on, his mind jumping and hopping from one thought to another before he was jolted from his memories by a loud shout, coming back to his senses as an unfamiliar and yet familiar voice rang out through his brain.

"Why?" the voice was louder now, more frenzied as it shouted, the holder of the sound reflecting the emotion in which he was speaking, hair dishevelled as he took a step towards the Master, seemingly irritated as the other didn't say a word.

The Master opened his mouth as if to speak back to him, only to find that once again his throat was dry. Instead he took a step back, swallowing as he tried to find words, tried to piece together an easy excuse within his mind, tried to find the emotion fit for the situation, but most importantly...tried the find the way to make the Doctor forgive him. He took another few steps back, finding his back was now pressed against a wall and he leant against it, fingers gripping into the surface of it for support as he opened his mouth, words now coming out.

"The drums," he whispered.

This was apparently not the right excuse, not the right mixture of words, as the Doctor moved closer to him, covering the steps the Master himself had taken in a few quick strides, towering over the other in some sort of new found power and glory. He stared at him as hands found their way to his shoulders, pinning them back against the wall with a force that could only belong to that of a Time Lord, with a strength that could only belong to the Doctor. He sought eyes and in those eyes he found pools of deep set emotions.

Then the Doctor's mouth opened and words came crashing down on him, "No," the single syllable broke him somewhat and there was a pause before more flowed forth, "No, you can't just blame the drums inside your head whenever you want to be forgiven for doing something...horrible."

The rage within the eyes built, pushing all other emotions within those pools of green back, consuming the surface in all its terrible glory, "All you ever do is hurt and you don't care about the consequences! So long as it gives you something to strive for, something to do and a goal to achieve!" the volume of the voice built as the words were spoken and the Master could feel what was coming next.

"You do all of it so you don't feel useless! You ruin people's lives!" his shoulders were suddenly shoved back against the wall and he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, bracing himself for the next words that would hit him, knowing that it was in fact useless to try and do such a thing. He found his hands had risen, gripping onto the forearms of the Doctor.

"You're pathetic," the words weren't shouted, nor were they whispered. They were said quietly with untraceable emotion that could have been mistaken for none at all.

The Master found, however, that they reached the intended effect the Doctor had strived for and the one that he had tried to combat as tears welled up in his eyes, the words hitting him no matter how precisely he had tried to dodge them, like tiny arrows of pain and hurt and misery digging into him and piercing both of his hearts.

"No...no no no," the Master breathed the words out. Hands moved and fingers curled as he tried to push the Doctor back, his attempts half hearted as he slumped further back against the wall, growing more panicked as he saw the Doctor wasn't going to allow himself to be blown over this time. The Master almost whimpered as he saw the gritted teeth that were bared slightly, the fingers on his shoulders digging into his skin.

The Doctor didn't realise how hard the words had hit until tears rolled down his captive's cheeks. He sucked in a breath and loosened his hold on the Master's shoulders, taking a few steps away from the other slowly, staring at him – he was so vulnerable, so open, so quick to fall from the high seat of power to that of a weeping child that was lost within its own confused world of swirling emotions. He watched with old, old eyes as the other Time Lord sunk to the ground, knees drawn up to his chest as he rocked, frenzied fingers digging roughly into his trouser legs, crinkling and crumpling the fabric of the once expensive suit. The Master's forehead came down to bury itself in his knees, hands moving to pull and grip his legs closer to his body for some form of comfort.

Then he heard it, words tickling his ears.

"_Sorry_," was the word, spoken over and over by the Master, quiet and fleeting and Gallifreyan.

Before he knew it, he was plunged into a memory where he was shouting, shouting so loud as his friend was pressed back against the wall. Faint words could he heard in the memory, words such as 'drums' and 'blame' and 'pathetic'. But one word rang out loud through the restricted sound boundaries of the flashback, a clear line shouted in a distorted play.

"_One day you'll have to learn how to accept responsibility for your own actions! You can't just blame everything you do on the drums and expect everyone to believe you! They don't even exist, they're just inside your head!" _

It was suddenly all so clear. Oh he was stupid, such a stupid old Time Lord. He figured though that this was what came from age – you grew to over look the obvious and forget the important. He didn't even hesitate before he was on his knees besides the Master, arms wrapping around the other and tugging him into a tight hug, holding the Master close, rocking them back and forth steadily and gently.

"_I'm so sorry_," the words came out in Gallifreyan without him meaning for them to do so, "_I forgive you, always and forever_."

His words soon turned into sweet nothings as he felt the Master start to relax in his arms, hands coming up from drawn in legs to wrap around this new and tweed clad body that the Doctor now possessed. Shivered sobs hit against the Doctor's shoulder and he took them, a hand running gently through the Master's hair. The old Time Lord pushed the thought of what his companions were thinking to the back of his mind before he could dwell on it too much and make himself start to pay attention to the instinctive reactions he was having to the current situation.

The Doctor's hand moved swiftly to the Master's own, gripping it tightly and giving it a reassuring squeeze, mouth moving to press a light kiss against the Master's forehead before he stood, pulling the other up with him. He walked briskly towards the TARDIS, past the Silence, past River and past the companions who shouted protests at him as he clicked his fingers, the TARDIS doors swinging wide and allowing him to step inside, pulling the Master with him.

"Come along, Ponds."

* * *

><p><em>They were curled up within each other's arms, holding one another close in a way that friends wouldn't. Theta was asleep but Koschei was awake and he assumed that as soon as the other Time Lord woke up he'd push him away or, if Koschei pretended he was asleep, Theta would attempt to casually slide from his grip and pretend they were never like that. However, he wasn't going to let mere thoughts get him down. Right now they were like this and he was going to treasure that one thought as though it would be his last because it was perfect, everything about it was perfect and it was all he would ever want; him and Theta, Theta and him, together. Alas, it would never be for the other was blinded from his own feelings by some sort of shame that Koschei thought was utterly stupid.<em>

_Nevertheless, he moved closer, tightening his grip around the other's waist and earned a light kiss to the top of his head. _

_Yes, perfect._

Now, however, he found that his bed was empty and his only hug buddies were the pillows strewn out across it. He was alone. A sigh left his lips before he pushed himself up and tried to collect his thoughts, swallowing when he noticed his throat was dry. The Master's mind slowly clicked into place and he heard two things: the drums (as was a mandatory thing to hear) and shouting coming from the console room of the TARDIS he was in. He noticed the shouting itself was in a particular accent of a Scottish orientation and frowned before realising: he was on the Doctor's TARDIS.

"The accent is probably from one of his companions," he sighed, speaking to himself again without realising; he really did have to stop doing that.

Pushing himself up, he slid from under the covers of the bed (though he wasn't quite sure how he'd got there in the first place) and noted the slightly drowsy feeling running throughout his system before he stood, throwing his suit jacket off in distaste on his way to the door. He left the room, feet padding softly against the metal grating of the TARDIS floor; so he'd been smart enough to take off his shoes but not his suit? Strange. The volume of the shouting grew as he got closer to the console room and he began to start making out words from the mix. Before he knew it he was standing in the doorway to the console room, leaning against it and observing the sight before him.

"He can't stay here! He just can't Doctor!" came the loud, Scottish drawl from his ginger female companion, "He took my baby and raised it to kill you, surely that should show you something! He's evil, positively evil and you still insist on keeping him...here..."

The words started to slow before they cut off as the Master and Amy's eyes locked – oh, the drums got louder when he looked at this one. Before he knew it, a mocking smirk was perched upon his lips and he was waving at the other with his fingers, his posture casual, looking at her as though they were friends as he kept his spot in the doorway.

Needless to say, Amy's reaction to this wasn't a simple wave back.

"I'm going to kill you!" she made to lunge towards him but her...husband was it? Yes, husband, pulled her back. Oh, the Master really needed to remember things about the people's whose lives he ruined.

"You wouldn't be the first," were the words that casually left his lips as he pushed himself out of the doorway and made his way to stand by the Doctor, who was a considerable distance away from the Scot. He could see the look of distaste on the other Time Lord's face as he processed the words the Master had spoken.

"So you're awake, I see," the statement from the Doctor was obvious and the Master could see it was purely to make casual conversation in a situation that was dire, purely to distract the Doctor from the reality that was all around him. The Doctor never really did fair well with reality.

"As is obvious," the Master hummed, leaning against the railings next to where the Doctor was stood, "The thing I would like to know is how I was asleep in the first place."

"Drugged," was the simple and one worded response from the Doctor.

"Ah," was the reply, "So...what're you going to do with me? I trust it's going to be either to kill me for good or the same thing you proposed aboard the Valiant. I'm sure I'm _far_ too beyond repair for it to be what you suggested when that whole situation with the Axons happened."

He saw the other's nose crinkle with distaste as he remembered and pictured each of the situations in turn, fingers clenching into fists as he tried to hold some sort of emotion back from the situation, "Valiant, same thing I said at the Valiant."

"Oh goodie, I get to be a pet," the Master frowned, though that had been the answer he had expected; good old predictable Doctor.

"How can you two just chit chat together like this!" oh, it was that horrible Scottish girl again, didn't any pathetic ape just learn to keep their mouth shut? "Have you forgotten already that he tried to make someone kill you, or did that fact just happen to slip your mind, Doctor? You haven't even told us who he actually is yet!"

He noticed the nice one of the companions (Rory! That was his name) was still holding Amy firmly in place. The other one though, the child of the two, was staying silent, not even paying attention to the whole situation as she messed with the TARDIS controls; he assumed River was keeping it in a steady flight in whatever part of the Time Vortex they were cascading through, like he'd taught her to as a child, so sweet that she remembered.

"So you've not told them about me?" the Master's eyebrows were raised as he asked the question, "Oh well that's not good. Get new companions and never tell them about your best friend? Such a sad thing," he mock pouted in the Doctor's direction, grinning when the other frowned at him.

"I didn't tell them because..." the Doctor stopped midsentence, as though he was hesitant to continue onwards.

"Because...?" the Master urged him on, motioning with his hand for the other to continue.

"Well," the Doctor straightened out, pulling and adjusting the collar of his tweed jacket, "With all of the stuff that happened with...with us and Rassilon, with the Time Lords and the Time Lock..." the look in his eyes was rather desperate, the Master noted, as though he didn't want to carry on. Once again, he gestured with his hand for the Doctor to continue.

"I thought you were dead."

The Master never thought a single statement could shock him so much. He stared with the Doctor, kept their eyes locked together for what he could honestly say felt like an eternity. He'd thought he was dead...dead! No, no that was stupid, he never died, and he always came back, like now. The single word ran over and over in his head; dead, dead, dead, dead. His fingers momentarily dug into the railings he was leaning against, frown perched upon his lips, his eyes wide as he slowly began to shake his head. He pushed himself away from the railings, teeth grit now and hands clenched into fists; the drums told him to punch. But he didn't, instead he walked from the console room as though it was the most casual thing in the world.

What bothered him the most was that the Doctor wasn't running after him.


End file.
